“No. You can get her a glass of water and a damp towel. I’ll take care of her.”
Even through the dimness shrouding her senses, Lenore heard the determination that rang in his tongue. Despite her present circumstances, despite everything, she felt a ripple of pure happiness that he should be so adamant in his desire to help her, in claiming his right to do so. He was only being kind but she was in dire need of his kindness.
When Trencher returned with the glass and towel, Jason coaxed Lenore to drink, then, ignoring her weak protests, gently washed her face, cradling her in his arms. Handing the towel to the hovering maid, Jason raised a brow at his wife. “Better?”
Suddenly shy, Lenore nodded. Jason’s arms slipped from her as he stood. Before she could even sit up, he bent and lifted her into his arms. Lenore clutched at his lapel, her eyes meeting Trencher’s awed gaze.
Jason strode around the bed and deposited his wife on her pillows. Anticipating Trencher, he transfixed her with a steely glance and fluffed Lenore’s pillows himself, before settling her back on them and tucking the eiderdown about her.
Seeing the maid gather the towel and basin and head for the door, Jason said, his tone coldly commanding, “Your mistress will ring when she has need of you.”
Eyes wide, Trencher bobbed a curtsy and withdrew, pulling the door shut behind her.
Making a mental note to have a word—several words, in fact—with his wife’s maid, and his valet, on the subject of leaving him in ignorance of such vital matters as his wife’s health, Jason turned his attention to Lenore. Smoothly taking her hand in his, he sat on the edge of the bed.
From beneath her lashes Lenore looked up at him, not at all certain of what would come next. Yet the unconscious movement of his thumb over her knuckles erased any trepidation.
His expression non-committal, Jason looked down at her. “How long has this been going on, Lenore?”
The concern in his voice tied Lenore’s tongue. She looked down, picking at the lace edge of the eiderdown with her free hand while considering how much it would be wise to admit. She wished with all her heart to confess all and return to the Abbey, but the Season was not yet ended.
When she did not immediately reply, Jason’s brows rose. “Since you arrived in town?”
Looking up, Lenore jettisoned all thoughts of prevarication. “Virtually,” she admitted, her voice low.
Jason sighed and looked down, his fingers int
erlacing with hers. “My dear, I wish—very much—that you had told me. I’m not a monster.” His fist closed about her hand, then relaxed slightly. Mindful of Agatha’s words that Lenore had only followed her odd course to achieve what she believed he desired of her, he added, “There’s nothing I can do to relieve you of your present susceptibility but I would not wish you to tire yourself further on my account.”
“Oh, but I’m perfectly… At least, later…” Eyes wide, Lenore leapt in to avert any decree. But when her eyes met his, and she saw the comprehension and perception therein, she faltered to a stop.
One of her husband’s brows had risen sceptically.
“Perfectly all right later in the day? Well, even? Perhaps I should warn you, my dear, that I do not take kindly to having the wool pulled over my eyes.”
Under his stern grey gaze, Lenore shifted uneasily but the affection in his tone, in his expression, gave her the strength to reply, “But truly, Jason, I can manage. I would not wish the ton to think your wife was incapable of carrying her position with credit.”
“The ton may think what they please. However, in this instance, I think you’re making too much of their inconstancy and too little of their sense. You’ve succeeded as my duchess far better than I’d hoped, Lenore. None of those who matter will hold your desertion of their balls against you, certainly not when they learn the cause.” Entirely unconsciously, Jason’s gaze skimmed possessively over his wife’s body. When his eyes returned to her face, he saw she was blushing delicately. He smiled, squeezing her hand gently before raising it to his lips. “Who knows?” he murmured, his eyes quizzing her. “They might even be jealous.”
Lenore blushed even more. Wishing she possessed the will to retrieve her fingers, for it was exceedingly hard to think with his lips on her skin, she felt obliged to argue for the conservative course, the course she did not wish to follow in the least. “The Season will be over in a few weeks, my lord. It will be time enough to return to the Abbey then.”
Jason shook his head. “We’re leaving for the Abbey tomorrow morning, Lenore. At least—” He broke off, regarding her ruefully. “As early as you can manage it.”
They were the words Lenore had both feared and longed to hear. Yet she could not let them pass without challenge. “But—”
“No buts.” Jason’s voice was firm. “You may tell me your engagements and I’ll have Compton cancel them.”
“But—”
“You’ll stay safely in bed until it’s time for luncheon. I’ll send someone up with a tray—better still, I’ll bring it myself.” Jason rose. “We can remain here all day, or, if you wish, I could take you for a stroll in the square. Tonight, I fear you’ll have to continue to bear with my unfashionable company, for I do not plan to go out. We’ll have dinner together and then you must rest.” At the end of this recitation, his gaze dropped to Lenore’s face. “Do you have any more buts, madam wife?”
Not sure whether she wished to glare or laugh, Lenore compromised. “I fear there’s an impediment to your plans you’ve overlooked, my lord.”
Abruptly eschewing his arrogant stance, Jason asked, “Don’t you wish to spend your day with your husband? Or is it that you do not wish, in your heart, to return home to the Abbey with me?”
Lenore’s heart turned over. What her heart wished, she was convinced she could never have. But she was a little bemused by Jason in vulnerable vein and was at a loss to know how to word her reply.
Sensing her predicament, Jason smiled, raising the hand he still held to clasp it more securely between his. “Forgive my levity, my dear. What is it I’ve overlooked?”